Somewhere above Metropolis
Superman’s red cape is flapping in the breeze.
He is listening in vain,
for someone to ask for his help.
Across the ocean
where water and radiation have taken everything
except hope,
no one is asking for help.
An ordinary man
resigned to his own death,
A death that could be quick poison
or slow cancer.
wakes from a tormented sleep
And fills the cracks,
plugs the holes
with his body.
His finger plugging the holes
of the nuclear dam.
Somewhere in the Fortress of Solitude
Superman cooks nachos
and settles down in front of the television.
No one is asking for his help.
He’s not the hero anymore.
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